


Unmade

by ClaireMorgan, kimmycakes97



Series: Open Again [1]
Category: Suspiria (1977), Suspiria (2019)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Queer Character, F/F, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireMorgan/pseuds/ClaireMorgan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmycakes97/pseuds/kimmycakes97
Summary: In 1943, Berlin is in the middle of a soaring chaos. But through the horrors of war, as well as the ones going on behind closed doors, two souls struggle to find each other.





	1. The Audition

April 16, 1943  
Berlin

\- Guten morgen! Please come in. 

I stepped further into the grand building, which had amazed me from the first time I saw it. And it was even greater going in and knowing you are wanted; legitimately, almost. Not so far from being part of the family. 

\- Follow me. 

It was Miss Tanner, who was not old nor young, and definitely not beautiful, but important in the mysteriously organized hierarchy that seemed to rule this company. Or at least she looked like she was, from what I had seen. Yet. 

\- We are very busy at this time of year, so Miss Huller will judge your audition on her own. If that is fine to you, of course. You could always postpone, we don’t really need new dancers right now anyway. 

We entered a small, bright room; no walls, or windows, only mirrors. 

\- I prefer to do it now. I’ve been waiting for this for a while…  
\- Well, you have to be patient in this profession. Success takes time.  
\- I am patient. 

I did not understand why she was being so cold; as if she did not want me here. A blonde woman, not that older from myself, or she seemed, came in. She carried her head high, lips tight, eyes half-closed; I had an impression they always were; and piercing. Looking at her felt like being intruded, penetrated; an invasion of privacy. From the way she behaved, she was probably not glad to see me either. “Such an odd place, with odd people”. I thought. 

\- Miss Huller, this is Veva Blanc.  
\- Bonjour.

The word, and its language, reminded me of my husband; such a queer thought, even after all those years, of myself having a husband; and it was not all happy memories. Snapping back to reality, I noticed Miss Tanner had not even introduced the other woman to me; maybe she thought I would not be here for long anyway. 

\- I think I told you last time you came, but I’ll repeat it now: you’ll have to dance without music.  
\- Yes, you did tell me.  
\- Go on, then. 

She moved to a corner of the room, and dimed the lights. Miss Huller, who had not spoken more than a word, sat on a chair in the front. I took a deep, long breath. 

\- Whenever you’re ready. 

The voice, and its riled tone, made me startle, as I was just about to start; it was as if she did it on purpose. But I threw my head back, and let dance take hold of me.


	2. When we met

April 17, 1943  
Berlin

The usual humming; like a beating heart; was filling up the air at the Markos dance company; a morning like any other. The war. The cold. But inside none of this seemed to exist. 

I was sitting on the floor, in the main dance room. It was still empty; I had came in early, to get some quietness. There was something about this room, and this whole building; an irresistible power of attraction, swathing and fascinating and mesmerizing. Though maybe a bit disturbing, with its dark staircase and narrow hallways, and all the unknown corners; nevertheless, I always felt like this was where I was suppose to be. In this room, in this city. And on this day. 

\- Sofia, our new dancer is here.

Miss Tanner’s voice broke my moment of peace; always loud, and sharp, constantly irritated by some circumstance or another. I never really liked her; neither did I understand why Helena did. 

I stood up, and got out of the room. I saw three silhouettes in the hall; it reminded me of something, which I immediately forgot, and I came back to reality; one of which was unfamiliar. She turned, and looked up to me. She smiled. It was weird; this unexplainable rush took over my whole self, and I grabbed the rail, as if I was afraid to fall. I felt dizzy, and a bit lost for a second; when my eyes went back to her, she had already looked away. 

It was like the grief of something I never even had; the pain, a physical pain, was, for a second, as vivid as all the ones I had lived through before. But I needed to put myself together; they were going up the stairs, towards me. At this moment, I would have sworn that I could not bear to cross her eyes again. I only dared listening to her voice; sweet, enveloping, though hardened by the crisp accent.

\- Well, I live just a few blocks away, so it won’t be a bother.  
\- Most dancers live here, in the building, but if you think it is better for you to stay home than I can’t force you. You have a husband, do you?  
\- Yes.  
\- Then…  
\- It’s okay, Miss Tanner, I’ll take care of this young lady. 

A raspy voice, and always the same tone; smooth, but assertive. It was Helena, standing behind me with her cigarette at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes hidden behind her customary sunglasses. She was wearing a black dress, going down to her ankles and covering her neck, and her hair were falling in tights, blond curls around her face, brushing her shoulders. Age had already took some of her beauty, but she had this strange effect on people. You could see the new girl was no exception. 

\- You’re Helena Markos. I’m so honoured… I mean, I… 

She chose to ignore the flattery, though I knew she took immense pleasure in it. 

\- I’m glad you’re joining the family. Follow me, I’ll show you the rest myself.  
\- Well, that’s very kind of you. 

When they turned the corner of the hallway; as I was just standing there, wondering what had just happened; Helena looked at me. 

\- Come with us, Sofia. 

I followed them without a word, not really understanding my place here; maybe just being by Helena’s side, as she so often wanted me to be; so I just kept listening.

\- What was your name again?  
\- Veva. Veva Blanc.  
\- Veva. 

She smirked. I felt a pinch, or maybe more of an a open wound, in my stomach; I could not figure out if it was losing Helena’s attention for a little while, or her attitude of possession over the girl; nonetheless, I did not like it. 

\- Miss Tanner said you went to our last show. So you enjoyed it, then?  
\- I loved it. I got a formal training in ballet…  
\- In Paris, I know.  
\- Yes, but I had never seen dance like that. It’s so… modern!  
\- Well, that is why we hesitated to let you audition. I hope you understand, we don’t usually take dancers with only classical training. Dance has come to a new era! But you seem to be aware of that, are you?  
\- Yes. Yes I am. 

We walked by the other studios, which Helena showed with a wave of her hand as we passed. 

\- Helena. I need to talk to you.

Miss Huller. As sharp and ruthless as Miss Tanner, if not more. This, and her dancing, could be quite admirable; still, I did not particularly like her. Helena seemed like she was choosing whether to tell her it would wait, just because she could, or spare herself the trouble of her wrath and go right away. 

\- Let’s go to my office. 

She gazed over to me, making me freeze in my way; as she did to everyone. All this while, the new girl stayed silent, and a bit uncomfortable, in between us. 

\- Sofia, sweetheart, I’ll let you finish with Veva. Bring her back to the main dance room. And you can start practice without me, I’ll be here in a few minutes. 

I nodded, and she went. But just as she left she turned around. 

\- One last thing, Veva. That piece you performed in your audition… where did it came from?  
\- Well, I… I created it. I don’t know, after I watched your show, I… it just came up to me.

Helena stayed there for a few seconds, staring; thinking, it seemed. 

\- I would very much love to see it then. Maybe you could show me later?  
\- Yes, of course, I would love to.  
\- See you later, then. 

And she disappeared, with determinate steps, and not a look behind. I looked at Veva, and held out my hand. 

\- I’m Sofia. Since we were not really introduced. 

She chuckled softly, and shook my hand. 

\- Veva.  
\- Veva. 

I smiled. That she was here; a girl, with a name, smiling back to me; I could not really believe. Her sole existence; and I did not even know her; made me feel like I had been wrong my whole life; about everything, anything, I did not understood a single thing before that day. At least that was how I felt. And it scared me. But the taste of the thrill; like blood for a beast; was stronger. 

\- Come, I’ll take you back. It can be kind of a maze in here. And you don’t have to start right away, you can watch for today, the teachers won’t mind. 

She did not answer, but shook her head, staring at me with such intensity I had to look away. Since she was not talking, I continued. 

\- Where are you from?  
\- Bath. It’s in England. 

I frowned unintentionally. 

\- And why is an English girl living in Berlin? Aren’t you on the other side of the war?

She stayed silent for a moment; and the shadow of a ghost seemed to pass in her eyes; though she had to give a clear answer this time. 

\- Well, my husband, Henri, he is French. A businessman. He thought the war was a great opportunity, and he bought textile factories in a town called… Vilhelsheaven. Or something like that. 

She talked about it with such nonchalance, as if she did not care; though, for some reason, I knew she did. And what else could she do, if not act this way?

\- Why are you here, then?  
\- We were bombed. Two months ago. The factories were totally destroyed. I saw people, dying, in the streets. Houses on fire. And the sound… It was horrible. 

She stopped, and even seemed to swallow a tear; or maybe it was just me seeing things that were not there. I wanted to say something, or do something; a gesture of comfort; but I stayed there, unable to. 

\- My husband wanted to move back to the city, and we bought a small place with the money we had left.  
\- I’m sorry. For all the stuff you went through, I mean. 

I whispered; even though most people here thought the same, I felt like it would be dangerous to talk aloud. 

\- I’m sorry you have to be here. In Germany, I mean. 

She looked at me; again, I shivered, and more intensely this time seeing all this sadness in her small smile. 

\- It’s okay. I’m happy to be here. To be part of this family. About that… you’re more than any ordinary dancer around here, are you?  
\- I’ve been here a long time. Ten years, almost. A few years back, one of the instructors died and they did not have anyone to replace her. Now I still train like any other dancer here, but I’ve been doing a bit of teaching for the younger girls ever since.  
\- Then I guess we’ll see each other a lot.  
\- I guess we will.


	3. Destiny's thrust

Later on the same day

Sofia

She had asked for me. It was not the first time. She actually requested my company quite often; at day or at night, as late as she wanted, I would always come. To explain why I obeyed so willingly would be hard, and vain. I just did as I was told. Or at least I had been for so long. 

I had gone down from my room; which was bigger than the other girl’s, with a private bathroom and away from all the fuss; to Helena’s, deeper into the basement. I was the only one, apart from some of the matrons, would could go there; it gave me some kind of childish pride, even though I would never have admitted it. 

\- Sofia. Come here. 

She was sitting on her bed, in the dim light of a candle; the strange shadows it casted on the wall seemed like a million faces staring. 

As I sat on the bed she put her hand around my shoulders and forced me; in a way that was both soft and firm; to lay my head on her knees. She let her hand wander in my hair; I did not bother, since it had become a sort of habit. It left me undaunted, even when I felt passion in her gestures; sliding her fingers through strands and pressing her thumb on the back of my neck. Her nails always softly scratching my skin; I tried to ignore her attempts to get too close. There was a time when I thought I wanted to be hers, and only because it was her desire, however at that time I saw how all of this could not last any longer. 

\- Sweet girl that Veva. And I believe she will be good too. 

That voice. Even after all those years, it hit me everytime, in a way I could not quite describe; disturbing, but soothing. And always getting me out of deep thoughts I could never go back to. I turned on my back, looking at her face from below. 

\- I heard Miss Huller say she was not extraordinary.   
\- It’s because she reminds her of you when you arrived. 

“And I took her place”, I thought. Not that I had decided this; I only learned later, through gossip, that whatever I was for Helena, I had not been the first one. She always picked favourites, and it had been Miss Huller, for a time. 

\- And what do you think of her?   
\- I don’t know really… 

Lies. “Why am I lying?” The truth would be that I had thought only about her ever since she left. However I could not say those words; I feared them, somehow. Maybe because, deep inside, I knew it was “wrong”, as right as all of this felt.

It was like she had unleashed something in me; something important, life-changing, some painfully tasteful disease you do not recover from. I saw the image of it in my head; a bundle of lights, trembling like troubled waters, colors tangled with strikes of emotions. And it would not go away. 

\- You will have to help her. She can be good, but she will need to work. Not the same kind of raw talent you had. But close. 

I could not put a word on this intoxicating perspective; spending time with her, just being in the same room as her seemed unreal when I thought about it. Since I was not answering, Helena got impatient.

\- You’ll help this girl if I ask you to, will you?

It was more a command than a plea; the kind of question with only one good answer. And there was this vague impression that pushed me to accept. I surrendered. 

\- Yes, of course. I will. 

 

Veva

The house was silent when I came back. Gabriele, our maid, had gone home; and I always preferred when she was there, as if in her presence nothing really bad could happen. When I went up in the narrow staircase, I found Henri asleep in his armchair; an empty bottle of wine, and one still half full glass beside him. In an unstoppable urge I walked up and seized the glass; in a second all its reddish liquid, which I rarely dared enjoying, was going down my throat. It burned, and the taste was more bitter and dry than the silky sweetness I expected; cheaper, definitely. But then again I was not used to drink these things. 

I looked down to Henri. “He will be mad if he wakes up and sees me like this”, I thought. Though in that moment I did not really care. I stared closely to this man; lost in troubled sleep, mouth half open and moist lips, sweat on his large foreheads, his tie loosened up and his shirt out of his pants. I stayed there, trying to find a reason, anything, which would explain why I agreed to marry him. None came in mind. And it seemed so long ago now. I wanted to see the world, my parents kept saying it was the right thing, and since their presence had become unbearable I had to get away from home. But even with all of this I still could not figure it out.

I did not want to stay in front of this mess of a man, and so I walked up to the bedroom. My day had been undoubtedly joyful, nevertheless I felt a melancholia that did not even seem to be mine. Maybe the sight of this house, in which I had been trapped for so long, with nowhere to go; papers and bottles all over the living room tables and floor, the musty atmosphere that remained even after opening all windows, and this man, Henri, my husband, in the middle of this chaos. This was my life now. But it would all change, from this day. I hoped. 

As I was undressing to go to bed, I heard noise through the thin wall. 

\- Get out of my way, you son of a bitch! 

Bottles clattering and loud footsteps echoed in the silence of the evening. 

\- Veva? Is that you?

I did not want to answer, and I did not want to see him; no more of his mean words and his despising looks and his hot breath in my face, staining me with his dirty hands. There was a time when I used to like this man, or at least the younger and sweeter version of him. Not love him, but at least like him. It all seemed so far now. 

He pushed the door, and I had to stare into his empty, tired eyes. 

\- What are you doing? Where were you for all of the day?  
\- I went to audition at the dance company. I told you about it. And I was only gone a few hours.   
\- Are you trying to make me angry?   
\- No, of course not. 

He took a pause, let out a sigh and looked above his shoulder like he felt someone watching. But we were alone. 

\- So now you don’t have to go to this place again, right? Fini. 

He grabbed a lighter on the dresser and a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it without looking at me. 

\- Well… I got in, so… I actually will go and practice there everyday. 

His eyes went straight back to me. He took a step further, but he lost his balance and had to grab the door frame in order to stay up, mumbling some french swear words. He meant to look threatening, however now he just seemed ridiculous; the vein pulsing on his forehead revealed how all this made him even angrier. 

\- You’re my wife. And I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour. 

His talking was getting more and more difficult; his mouth must have been numb with all the wine and beers he had taken. 

\- You’ll do as I tell you. And I’m telling you you won’t go to this stupid dance thing. 

At first I felt fear, nonetheless it soon vanished, and I was only tired. An unknown energy flowed into every part of my body; it straightened my spine and tilted my chin. I was tired of this. 

\- Henri… I’m tired. And I’m not asking for your permission. 

He seemed astonished; eyes wide opened he stared and looked a fool, while I gently pushed him away in order to close the door. All of a sudden he got out of his transe.

\- You will not go. You can’t disobey me. 

I looked at him right in the eyes, so intensely he looked away. I was starting to understand that I had a voice. I had power. And it felt so good. 

\- I will.


	4. Just one more time

April 19

Veva

“It’s my first day.” I kept repeating this in my head, like some magic sentence, a spell that could make it all better. Because I was nervous; horribly, and afraid to deceive them. I had this image in my mind: me starting to dance and the look of disgust on all faces, their eyes almost popped out when they realise their mistake. They would tell me to go home, and I would have to stay with Henri, and suffocate in this house where all things seemed to crumble down. What I would give not to ever go back to this foretaste of hell. 

I had actually spent quite some time at the academy lately, but only watching. And then yesterday, when I was about to go home, Markos called my name across the hall; I shuddered and turned around, as if I had done something wrong. She seemed to notice; from a distance I think I saw her let out a small giggle. 

\- Tomorrow you’ll start dancing. I can’t wait any longer. 

She had a large grin, and as she still stared at me she took a long draft of her cigarette; when she inhaled the smoke I felt like she was breathing a part of me, sucking it out so she could have it for herself. But when I walked away the sensation was gone, and I stopped thinking about it, at least for a while. 

The day after that, the thought of it did not even cross my mind when I passed the exact spot she stood while looking at me; I was mesmerized by something else. It was Sofia; she was dancing in the middle of the main studio, her hands caressing her own body, which twisted in a way that made it difficult not to stare. Everyone was moving around her; not dancing, but attending a thing or another, and she did not seem to even see them. At one point she slipped onto the floor; waves rattling her whole self in the rhythm of a music only she could hear. 

Suddenly there was a warmth in my chest; and I felt myself blush a bit to this new feeling. I had only experienced it once before, when I saw the company’s show, and Sofia at its heart. Because I had noticed her way before we met, and thought about her more than I had ever done of a stranger. But I felt we knew each other; as if she had always been there, or like I was waiting for her this whole time, a familiar silhouette I expected at every corner. Though now I did not know what to do. When we met I had almost told her; that I had seen the show, and particularly her in it. That she was the reason I was here. 

“I can’t tell her that.” It hit me; she would not understand. I was used to this; no one had really tried to understand me, to get to the bottom of my person and figure me out; maybe it was why I craved so hard for it. 

She stood up and looked at me; it was like she knew I was standing there, looking at her for longer than I should have. She smirked, though in her face I saw a haze; the same I carried, it seemed. Or maybe I was just going crazy; a sweet insanity I had no wish to cure, if it was the case.

I smiled back, and crossed the door; I was now in full light, surrendered by mirrors and all the other dancers and matrons. No going back. 

\- Veva. There you are. 

It was Markos. She walked towards me, and took my hand; hers was cold and rough, like one of a corpse. 

\- I’m very happy that you’re starting today. Sofia will help you learn the choreography. 

She took a step back and grabbed Sofia’s hand. 

\- We’re focusing on the first half right now, and we’ll get to the rest later. As you know the performance is in August, so we have time, but if you don’t get to work now you won’t be able to make it. Allez!

We all stood there for a second; Markos holding my hand and Sofia’s, her eyes going from her to me, and from me to her. It seemed like she was silently telling us something, though I could not figure out what it was. Then she let go of us and went to take her place, on the wooden chair in the corner, next to Miss Balfour who was giving the beat.

I startled when Sofia took my hand, dragging me across the room without a word. But when she turned around, I saw she had a playful glint in her eyes. 

\- So you stand here, facing the mirror. 

I positioned myself as she was telling me. 

\- Now, you place your hands on your stomach and… No not like that. 

She slipped behind me and moved my hands to their right place. For a few seconds, she stayed there; our bodies were apart just an inch. I could feel her breath on my neck, and her hips pushing into mine; I silently gasped with a mixture of surprise and this mysterious emotion, coming back to me again. It seemed to be the price of her presence; I was always on the edge, closer to the fall than I wanted to be. 

\- Are you alright?

Both our heads turned at the same time, and in opposite directions, therefore we were now facing each other at a infinitely short distance. I looked down; not really meaning to, but not knowing what to do else. I vaguely saw a smile on her lips, and felt her gently pulling back. 

\- I’m fine. 

It had lasted less than a second, nonetheless the intensity of this moment would stay carved into my memory all day, and all night. I wondered if the others had seen, if they had noticed. Would they hate me? But what was it, really? What was I doing? 

______________________________________________________________________________

\- C’est fini pour aujourd’hui! Well done, girls. But tomorrow we’ll start the intense training, no more free afternoons! C’est clair?

A symphony of “yes” and “oui” answered her. After two hours of tiring work, the practice was finally over. However, since Sofia had stayed next to me all along, and now that we were both putting our shoes back on, and grabbing our bags, I started to sense I was lacking it; her presence, I wanted it again, right now, though I knew I could not. At that very moment she looked at me, through my soul, or so it seemed. “She must have seen all of me.”, I thought. 

\- What do you think of all this then? Still ready to join us?  
\- Yes, of course.   
\- I hope Helena didn’t scare you or anything. She acts like that with the new girls, just so they understand that we work hard here. But it’s also lots of fun.   
\- No, no I understand perfectly. 

On her face I catched a glimpse of a wry grin; maybe she thought I was such a good girl, always nodding in agreement, never complaining, or getting upset. I wanted to tell her that I was raised this way, that for me it was hard to fight against such an inclination. And I wanted to tell her this was all just a facade, that inside I was boiling, burning; I wanted her to know that I would tear those walls down, for her. One word, and I would. Interrupting my thoughts, she continued, and I felt she could have for hours on end.

\- She never danced you know. Helena. So famous in the industry and still she only sits there and watches us. But she has a... sixth sense to choose the dancers, and to push them to their best. And to run the company, of course. 

She gazed over, while we crossed the main hall; in an instant I would have to pass the door and go home, and she would stay here. Would she even think of me? I kept walking, knowing that any second I would have to say something. As I was forgetting how to talk, and how to move, I still turned to her and smiled. 

\- I meant to ask, what’s that accent? 

She raised an eyebrow, with a mischievous sparkle in her eye; it made me want to freeze that moment in time so that I could see that face again. 

\- Italiano. 

I opened the door but paused in its frame. 

\- Ciao, then.   
\- Ciao. See you tomorrow. 

She turned and walked away, without looking back. And I was standing there, hoping she would. Oh I wished she would come back, or that I could turn back time; I wished she would do that again; stand behind me, her hands on my hands, her lips almost brushing the back of my neck. I wanted to taste all of those moments again, this weird sensation that seemed to shake my soul, that warmth when we looked in each others eyes. I wanted to see what it felt like, so that maybe I could get it out of my mind. Just one more time.


	5. That something about her

May 2nd

Sofia

-1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4…

Clothes rustling, heavy breathing, feet pounding on the floor, skin hitting skin. And always the beat, keeping it all together. It was a perfect harmony; a strange symphony of waving bodies that filled me with an inexplicable energy. 

It was the end of a day of practice; one rainy afternoon, despite the spring that had slowly but surely took its place in the city. The brightness of the sun, the green grass on which we sat at the park, chatting and listening to the birds singing; it all felt obscene, since the world was falling around us. Thus, this weather was a better fit to the atmosphere of grief and anticipation that constantly floated among us, in between our smiles and our laughs. 

Suddenly I heard the sound of something falling to the floor throwing me out of my thoughts and into reality. I turned around, and it was someone; it was Veva, and I rushed next to her. She was huddled up on herself, her hands covering her face in a way that could have been either from shame or just basic desperation. I looked at her and it seemed like I catched a glimpse from another life; I had a vision of her in that same position, but her hands were covered in a blood that was not hers. In a blink it was gone; and there she was again, that same sweet and mysterious girl I was getting to know better everyday. 

\- Veva, are you alright? You want me to get you a water or something?

I put my hand on her back, and she shivered. 

\- I’m okay. It’s just… 

She was not crying, but her breathing seemed difficult, and her voice was tremulous. Though all of this only lasted a second; there she was, slowly standing up, swallowing whatever pain made her tumble down. Two of the girls stepped in. 

\- Someone bring her a water!  
\- Don’t you think you should go and rest?  
\- I’m fine!

She had screamed; or at least spoken in a voice way louder and directive than her usual calm tone. A murmur spreaded through the small crowd; it would all be forgotten in a few hours, though now Veva had a dozen of angry eyes, like deadly arrows, staring at her. I felt like they were staring at me too.

I was trying to find something to say, when I heard Helena’s voice behind me. 

\- If she says she’s fine then she is. Let’s start again where we left off.   
\- 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4… 

______________________________________________________________________________

\- Hey, Veva!

She was packing her bag, turning her back to us, and to me, it seemed. And since we talked almost everyday I felt a craving for her presence; a yearning I was only slowly starting to admit to myself. 

\- Yes?  
\- You want to go out to dinner with us tonight? All the girls are coming. It’ll be fun.   
\- I don’t know, I… I should go home.   
\- I would like you to be there. 

I immediately felt embarrassed for saying such a thing, but she smiled; and there I stood, looking at her. That unknown sparkle in her eye made me want to say it again. 

\- Okay. I’m coming.   
\- I’m glad. 

We stayed there for a moment; just not knowing what to do, or at least that was how I felt.

Do you have anything to wear? You can borrow a dress from my closet, I don’t mind.   
\- That’s very kind of you, thanks.   
\- Come on, we’ll choose you something pretty. 

She giggled and looked away. “So shy”, I thought. “I wonder what lies behind it.”

______________________________________________________________________________

The sun had set a few hours ago, and now a fresh breeze blew in the bustling streets. The turmoil was making it seem like any Friday night; even if, the day before, one of the most beloved shop owners of the neighbourhood had been arrested, and dragged on the street with his wife and little boy like some worthless beast. It was getting darker everyday; and the worst was the look in those people’s eyes, the ones that stayed silent, and still, without crying or celebrating, the ones that seemed like they did not care. They were the one that scared me the most.

But one of the purposes of those nights out was to forget all of this, and “live our youth” as Helena said. This night was like any other; we had spent it in that same little restaurant, our usual place, ten minutes away from the academy. It was where we would meet when the matrons let us go out; not so often, in those times. 

Though one thing was different on this particular night; there was Veva, and she was sitting next to me. I kept feeling like she was gazing over; however, everytime I turned to talk she would look away, and I would have sworn I saw the shadow of a smile on her lips. 

Without really wanting it, or being able to control it, I had found myself spending lots of time with her, even though I still felt like I knew so little about her. There was something about her, in the way she talked, the way she stood in the space, that carried a magnetic energy, and maybe it was this mystery around her that fueled it. But there was more, there was this distant but intense feeling I had when I looked at her; she would be someone. She was someone. She just did not know it yet. 

That night, the girls had probably took a bit too much wine; they wanted to walk a bit, make the night last longer, before heading home. And I was glad; I did not want it to end either. While the drunkest of us led the way, I found myself walking alone with Veva. I smiled to her. 

\- Well, what do you think?  
\- Of what?

She had drunk a bit, and it was obvious in her playful tone; I had always liked her blushing cheeks and her timid answers, but I also loved that new Veva, burning with a new fever, which shined in her eyes like a dare. 

\- Being with us. Being part of the family. To spend…   
\- I love it. 

She was not usually the kind to interrupt; she waited patiently until you were finished to say what she had to say. It was almost as if she was asking for permission to take her place. Not tonight, though. I hoped it would last longer; I hoped it would be the same in the morning. As unlikely as it was. 

\- So, you’re staying then?  
\- Of course. I never intended to leave.

When she said that I realised; she was right, it was just me, I was afraid to see her go. And this fear grew every second; it was blooming at that very moment, spreading like some wild weed in my mind and soul. I startled when she spoke again.

\- Maybe we could do this some other time?  
\- Well we go out a few times a month, when the matrons let us.   
\- I meant us. Like you and me. 

I felt like we were walking a bit too close; maybe it was the wine again that was making me dizzy, however it seemed she was leaning towards me too. 

\- You know, Veva, I…   
\- I have to go home.

The change in her face was brutal. “Was it something I said?”, I thought. “Something I did?”

\- Now? Can’t you stay a bit longer?

I sounded a bit like I was begging; and I immediately felt an insidious shame ignite in my throat. 

\- No, I must go. It’s already late, he’ll be angry. 

She started to walk faster, and was about to turn the next corner when I ran up to her and took her hand. 

\- Wait. 

She seemed troubled, and I did not know why. I also still wondered for what reason I had run after her like that; I felt like a second ago I had something to say, but now it had vanished and I was left there speechless. Nonetheless I gathered my words and said something.

\- Are you alright?

She paused. I thought about what would happen if she said no. Maybe she would come back with us. “You know she can’t”, I thought. 

\- I’m fine. Good night. 

She was walking away again, when she turned one last time. She looked at me; we looked at each other. It was a long stare. No one had ever looked at me like that. 

Then she was gone. And all this time; when I was walking back home, when I undressed and laid down in my bed, when I tried to sleep in the soft humming of the dorms; I had this warmth, sparkling in my skin like an open wound, between my thumb and my finger. It was where her hand rested. And I made a silly wish, just before I fell into the arms of the night, that I would hold that hand again.


	6. Turning point

May 4th

Sofia

“I shouldn’t have come here.”, I thought. “ Not before figuring out what is happening.” The pavement unfolded beneath my feet; dark and dirty, with strands of rain streaming down. It was as if the universe was trying to clean us; trying to wipe away the sins of this cursed country with its water unstoppably pouring down. It had been like this for days; ever since that night. 

We had a short vacation; a few days to rest after the last week, which had been very busy, and before diving deeper into practice. “It will be your last one before the show”, Markos had said, in her tone that was as always imperious, but kind in its own way. The conclusion of all of this made me more troubled than I wanted to be; I had not seen Veva since she had left in a mysterious hurry that night. 

That night. I could not stop thinking about it; it was haunting me, like some whitlish ghost sticking to my skin, a viscid spirit slipping under inside me. I could almost smell it; it was like burned flesh, and wilted flowers, the smell of loves lost and dreams forgotten. “What is she scared of? Is it me? Or should I be scared to?” 

I had to stop torturing myself; I had reached my destination. The building looked old, in a damaged, bruised way, though it had kept a bit of this dignity all aged constructions carry. It was made of brownish-red bricks, with large symmetrical windows circling around it; it looked a bit like a prison, or a hotel. Like a place where lost souls took shelter.

“It’s here”, I thought. But right now, I did not feel like entering. Against my own will, it seemed, my legs carried me up to the door, and my arm raised and knocked. An old lady opened. 

\- Wer sind Sie? Was wollen Sie?  
\- Guten Tag! I’m… a friend of Veva. Veva Blanc. I was told she lived here.

She pointed the stairs. I nodded and climbed up; in a second I found myself knocking on another door, still not knowing what I was doing. A tall, dark haired man answered. He looked confused, frowning; though I immediately felt like he had this face on most of the time. “This is her husband, then. What a strange person.” 

\- Hi, who are you? If you’re coming to sell us something, you can leave, we don’t want it.   
\- No, I… I’m coming to see Veva.   
\- Why? And again, who are you?  
\- I’m a friend. From the dance academy. I left something to Veva and I wanted to get it back. 

He looked suspicious, and I did not understand why. But he mostly appeared as a tired man, probably in his mid-thirties, though only by the look I would have thought he was way older. His fatigue seemed to give him a constant silhouette of deception. After a moment, he spoke in a loud, deep but broken voice. 

\- Veva? There’s someone here for you. 

He walked away from the entrance, going back to the living room, without greeting me of one last look. When he was about to definitely leave, she appeared. She was wearing a long, gray skirt, with a white shirt tucked in. Her hair was falling around her, and in the light of the late afternoon it crackled into golden sparkles around her face. I had this weird thought; I saw myself sucking on those strands of hair, absorbing their beauty in a earth-shattering spasm. I was left without breath; when I dared to look into her eyes, there was a light that I could not quite describe. “What is happening to me?” 

\- Sofia… What are you doing here?

She sounded almost angry, her voice delicate as it always was, though more troubled; a soft whisper, with a hint of surprise. I was bothering her. I felt like an intruder, like a voyeur; now I could see the impropriety of my conduct. “I should never have come here.”

\- I… I was coming to see if I could get my dress back. You know, the one… I need it for a party tonight.   
\- Yes, of course. Come with me. 

All this time her husband had stayed there, gazing over from the other end of the room. I quickly followed Veva; anything to get out of his sight, to escape. In his presence I was reduced to a bundle of emotions; I felt uncomfortable, as if I was a fraud, or if I had done something wrong. Somehow, I felt guilt, and shame. And there was this knot in my stomach, spreading its fire in my whole body; I was a pyre, I could feel the taste of ashes in my mouth. His discreet but intrusive way of looking at her; with indifference, it seemed, but also with a sense of possession, as if he was looking at an object, a trophy he had won with great virtue. It made me want to see those eyes out of this face; pluck them out, crush them in my hands so that he could never look at her like that again. “How could such a sweet girl find herself married to that man?”

\- Here it is. Thank you again for letting me wear it. 

She had led me to her room and closed the door, then reached in a drawer and got the dress out; it had been washed, pressed and properly folded. I could see her hands soaking it into water, softly rubbing it, with such care; I could almost feel her brushing her fingers on the soft fabric. 

\- Don’t thank me. 

For a second she seemed baffled. I smiled. 

\- It was my pleasure. 

She chuckled, and it was as if she was finally herself. I wandered across the room, looking at the weary curtains, the small bed, the wooden commode which looked a hundred years old. This was where she spend her days. Her nights. “Does he come join her in this bed? Does he pin her down, does she surrender to his kisses, to the coarse lips of this drunk man, does she let him put his hands on her pale skin?” The images crackled in my head; I watched them with both a strange fascination and an overwhelming disgust. I turned to her, and they vanished. 

\- Can I confess something?

She let out a small laughed again. I was so happy to see her like that; it filled me with such a pride. It was hard to describe, but so precious I wanted it to stay forever. 

\- Yes.   
\- I came to get my dress back, of course but… I kind of wanted to see where you lived too.

She was looking out at the window, and I was suddenly afraid; maybe she wanted me to go now. 

\- Is that weird?  
\- No… 

She turned back and smiled, however in her eyes there was a sadness; I did not know where it came from, and hoped it was not me. I prayed it was not me. 

\- No, it’s not. 

The silence was getting heavier; carrying all the words unsaid, the feelings repressed and the questions unasked. 

\- I should go. 

She nodded and opened the door, leading the way back to the entrance. 

\- I’ll see you tomorrow.   
\- Yes, you will. 

I looked over my shoulder as she closed the door; catching a glimpse of her face, but not enough to see what was going on inside her head. What I would have given to open this skull, and see what was inside; dissect her mind so that maybe I could get a sense of why she was becoming so essential to me. “Essential. It’s the word indeed.”

I was passed the door, downstairs and already outside, where a timid sun was finally warming the air. I heard footsteps behind me. 

\- Wait! 

It was Veva. Her cheeks were red; from emotion of because she had ran down the stairs and up the sidewalk to catch up with me, I did not know. 

\- Do you want to stay over for dinner? I just… I wanted to thank you for all your help. But if you’ll be late to your party, then maybe you could come by some other time.   
\- No, I… Tonight’s perfect. Thank you for the invitation, it’s so kind of you. Are you sure I’m not bothering you?  
\- No, you’re not. And don’t thank me…

I had the same reaction then her a few minutes ago; and in her smirk there was the same mischievous sparkle. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Veva 

When I opened the door, there he stood, staring at me. 

\- What are you doing? Are you going mad?  
\- No… Sofia helped me a lot at the academy, so I thought I’d invite her to stay for dinner. As a way to thank her.   
\- I would appreciate if you would tell me first.   
\- Well, it’s done now. 

I turned around and she was here too; she had certainly heard everything, and I felt my cheek blushing. I did not want her to see me like this; so childish, so submissive. And now I did not know what to say. 

\- If you can’t have me, I’ll go, it’s fine.   
\- No! I don’t want you to go. 

She was being so kind, and I was dry, almost brutal; I felt sorry for acting this way, nonetheless I could not have said it aloud. Unable to say anything, I waved to the table, inviting her to sit. Then I disappeared into the kitchen. For a moment I leaned with my back against the wall, closing my eyes. I could not decide whether I wanted this to last forever or to if I wished none of it had ever happened. I pressed my nails into the palm of my hand; I almost wished to see blood coming out and running down my arm, dripping on the floor. Then maybe she would have to go. Or maybe he would leave, scared of my madness, and it would be just the two of us. She would not be scared. 

\- Veva? Is this dinner coming or not? Because if not I might as well open another bottle of wine.   
\- It is coming. I was just about to finish it when Sofia arrived. 

I forced my body to move, my mind to function; I took the roast out of the oven and brought it to the middle of the table. It had been all set; by me, of course. Sofia was sitting very stiff, which was not characteristic of her, on her chair; I took the place just across from her, while Henri went to one of the ends of the table. 

\- It looks delicious. 

I smiled to her. Henri kept staring at his plate. 

\- Oh thank you. The maid was not here today, so I cooked. I don’t do it often, I hope it’ll be good.   
\- Of course you’re not here often, it is because you’re spending all this time at this stupid academy. 

When I gathered enough strength to look up, I was mortified by the sight of his face; he seemed calm, content even. He did not care. His words felt like weighs on my chest; I gazed at Sofia, and the effect on her appeared to be the same. Though she was stronger; she was coping with such a natural, well-faked indifference. He was in a sort of trance, not noticing the pain in our faces, or maybe he was just ignoring it. He continued; he really had no pity anymore. 

\- So, Sofia, that is your name right?

He was not waiting for an answer, and so he kept talking. 

\- I guess you too are a dancer. I don’t understand why respectable young girls engage in such activities these days. What is it to gain? In the end you’ll end up like the depraved owner of this so-called company, old, ugly and with no husband. What a shame for your families! 

With every harsh word, every heavy breath that left a vague smell of bad wine floating in the air, my humiliation grew. He had never been like this. But how could I have been so foolish not to see how it was destined to happen someday?

\- Tell me, Sofia, why did you want to be a dancer? Because I can see the young girl you were, you must have been very pretty. Of course, today you have wilted a bit. Now that your prime is behind you, maybe you’ll regret acting with such frivolity. Maybe now you’re stuck there, aren’t you?

I wanted to run, to scream; I had in my mind pictures of such violence, things flying across the room, bones cracking and desperate howling. But my legs were paralysed and my throat was dry; therefore I stayed there. “At least I could say something, anything.”, I thought. Before it was too late. Before she would realise I was a fool for marrying this man, and hate me. “Can I live knowing that she hates me?”, I thought. Merciless, he carried on stabbing us, stabbing her, with his ruthlessness. 

\- Was it in the hope of a career? I was told young girls sometimes aspire to them now; I can’t make a sense out of it either. Or maybe it was because you had nobody. An orphan, with nowhere to go, desperately searching for a some kind of family. 

He finally looked up, and even had the nerve to turn to Sofia. She seemed paralysed, mostly with surprise, but also with shame; or maybe I was reading through myself rather than through her.

\- What is it then? Have I guessed right?

Suddenly I stood up and pushed my chair. The noise it made was only a loud creaking, though in my ears it sounded like a thunder, or the pounding of a judge's gavel. 

\- No! That’s enough!

I had almost screamed. 

\- What the hell are you doing?   
\- I’m… You’re not…   
\- For God sake, stop stuttering, you know how I hate it!

I took a deep, long breath. 

\- I’m not going to let you get away with this. You can destroy yourself, and you’re already doing it so well, and you can destroy me… but you do not get to hurt her.

I was not shouting anymore, my voice was not even loud. I knew I did not need to act like this; it was his way, not mine. I could be just as assertive using my own method. And it seemed to be working perfectly. 

\- I am leaving. 

He was staying there, mouth open, in an expression of absolute stupidity. A burst of hate grew in my throat; I wanted to tear him to pieces, I could see the blood on my hands, and it was poetic, beautiful almost. But now was not the time for hate, for violence. It was time to go. 

I rushed to my room, took my suitcase from under my bed. Most of my clothes were already in it; since this place felt so little like home I had postponed unpacking for months. For those short seconds, when I reached for the few small traces of me across the room, I had forgotten her. Could it even be possible; I forgot Sofia was sitting at my table, in my house. Though it would not be my house for very long anymore.

When I stepped out with my things Henri finally put the pieces together; I saw in his eyes how he was trying hard to understand, but could not. “He will never understand.”

\- What in god’s name you think you’re doing? You can’t leave! You’re mine, you’re under my command! Tu vas faire ce qu’je dis, connasse!

I was not listening; I was over his nonsense now. I was strong. I looked at Sofia. She was still sitting there, in the eye of the storm. Nevertheless, in this bursting chaos, she seemed to remain incredibly determined, posed. No fear. Having her here was the best thing that could have happened. Now I knew. 

In her eyes I could see she understood. He did not, but she did. She slowly stood up, and walked up to me. She was not saying a word; it was not her place to, and again, she understood. She was standing behind; just like that time in practice. Henri was blocking the door. 

\- I want to go, Henri. I won’t take this anymore. Let me go.   
\- Go where? T’as nulle part où aller sale pute!  
\- I can go wherever I want. Now let me pass. 

He had never been violent; cowardice took a too important place of his personality, and so I knew he would not be now either. But anger was burning in his eyes; we stared at each other for eternal seconds. Then, in a sluggish, almost disinterested gesture, he moved away. 

\- Goodbye, Henri.


End file.
